


Winter Haven

by GamblingDementor



Series: Out of Oz on the farm [2]
Category: The Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire, Wicked - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Birds, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Farmers au, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 21:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17988785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamblingDementor/pseuds/GamblingDementor
Summary: The sun was hotter up here in the desert. Elphaba was happier for it, but Glinda had gotten it into her fretting mind that a whole day under uninterrupted heat couldn't possibly be beneficial. Elphaba loved the sun, but she loved Glinda much more and so every day of extreme heat, she granted Glinda a few hours of her company inside the home after they'd had lunch before heading back out.Glinda and Elphaba's time alone gets interrupted by a very special new visitor or, the story of how Elphaba digs a pond.





	Winter Haven

The sun and Elphaba's blood ran hot in the late summer. Back as a child, she was Nanny's little lizard and not just for her complexion. She would adapt to the heat of summer in Quadling like her blood begged her to bask in sun for her own survival. Any time her father did not require her presence to win the souls of the Quadlings, any time Nanny did not need help to take care of dear Nessie, any time her mother had a good day and could handle herself without assistance, Elphaba would sneak out of the home and bathe in sunlight. She supposed that the taste for it came in direct contrast to her aversion to water.

The sun was hotter up here in the desert. Elphaba was happier for it, but Glinda had gotten it into her fretting mind that a whole day under uninterrupted heat couldn't possibly be beneficial. Elphaba loved the sun, but she loved Glinda much more and so every day of extreme heat, she granted Glinda a few hours of her company inside the home after they'd had lunch before heading back out.

Glinda was humming a popular tune when Elphaba entered the kitchen through the back door, something from her Gillikinese childhood. She turned her head to smile at Elphaba, not stopping her song or the preparation. Just a salad for a summer lunch, something fresh but Elphaba saw at least a dozen colors mixed in the bowl. Glinda had taken to cooking like their litter of cats to the patch of catnip. Despite her initial miseries and the frequent incidents that had stamped their first year on the farm, she had gotten the better of the wood stove Elphaba her installed her in her very own kitchen, tamed the harvests, and she cooked for them the best feasts Elphaba had ever known. Even a salad was a delight of simple deliciousness with her. Who could have ever dreamed of a better keeper of their home?

"You look lovely," she told Glinda, wrapping her arms around her waist from behind, pressing a kiss in the crook of her neck.

Glinda snorted, interrupting her humming. Elphaba liked herself subtle, but both of them knew when she was in a special mood.

"I have a knife," Glinda said cautiously, though she leaned her face to her shoulder to give Elphaba greater purchase. "Be careful."

Elphaba smiled against the soft skin, peppering more kisses onto it before speaking. There was nothing like the feel of Glinda between her arms, the shape of her she knew by heart. She didn't even remember how she had survived before the comfort Glinda brought her every day. Fueled by bitterness and injustice, perhaps. She liked the present softened version of herself better.

"You would stab me for begging for a kiss?"

Glinda nudged her playfully, but bit her lip when the kisses turned as soaring as the sun outside. Careful as ever, she put down the knife and turned into Elphaba's arms.

"You insatiable impatient woman," she purred. "Do you want to be eating by the time the sun is down?"

Elphaba licked her lip, her hands tight around Glinda's waist. She had gotten a little plumper since they'd moved here, the absence of a watchful Ama, of a group of observing friends, the quiet of a restful life where Elphaba tried to prevent as much work as she could from Glinda's jurisdiction. It suited her. Seeing her grow more beautiful every day made Elphaba feel like she could take care of her. It made her forget that Glinda was the one who took care of the both of them.

"I want…" But Glinda threw her a suggestive glance and the words remained stuck in her throat.

Glinda’s hands brushed against Elphaba’s forearms, leaving shivers in her trail. Elphaba so ardently craved to look into her sky blue eyes but they remained fixed on Elphaba’s green arms and Elphaba could not be sure if the stare more than the touch made the hair prickle up and her heart rush with anticipation.

“Is it so very hot outside?” Glinda asked. “Dearie dear, you’re sweating.”

Slowly, she took a step towards Elphaba and instinctively, Elphaba took a step back. Glinda smiled. Now that her eyes were on Elphaba’s, she found she has lost all the audacity from before. How much longer till Glinda stopped stealing her heart and leaving her breathless with just one glance? How many lifetimes till then?

“I… Yes, yes it is.”

“You must be so tired, my darling. You ought to sit.”

Elphaba couldn’t have mustered up an ounce of will of her own if she had wanted. Glinda took another step that Elphaba replicated, and another, and soon she found the back of her knees hitting the wooden chair by the table and as Glinda put a soft graceful hand at her shoulder, Elphaba sat. Looking up at Glinda was looking up at the sun.

“Don’t you agree,” Glinda said and with a deliberate slowness, she started unbuckling the left strap of Elphaba’s overalls, “that you’re much better off spending these hours with me inside?”

Elphaba gulped as Glinda’s fingers left the faintest tickle across her neck and shoulder as she switched to the right strap and the overalls flop down to Elphaba’s waist. Her fingers were cool with washing the vegetables in cold water but against her skin, they were burning. Elphaba closed her eyes and basked in the moment. Very few things in the world could possibly match the restful bliss of being taken care of.

“Yes,” she replied, breathless. “So much better off.”

Glinda cupped her cheek to make her look up at her. There was something in her smile, in her eyes, something that Elphaba had used to never understand. She got it now, only because the look gave way to action and the actions were unmistakable. The hand dropped Elphaba’s face and, with their gazes firmly locked in place, it traced a path down her arm, squeezing at the biceps − Elphaba flexed it and prompted a smirk on Glinda’s face. It was a caress at her forearm, an embrace as their fingers entwined and Glinda pulled their hands to her lips, pressing a kiss against Elphaba’s knuckles.

“Elphie,” she whispered, almost too soft paired with the thump of Elphaba’s heart racing at her temple, “Take off your shirt.”

It was a clumsy mess of bony limbs as Elphaba attempted to extirpate herself from the plaid shirt as fast as she could. She had rolled up the sleeves to work on the field, but her elbows caught on it in her haste and got stuck. Her groan of frustration only made Glinda giggle, but she certainly did not help her out. Her face was sweaty and embarrassed when it finally emerged from the thrice-damned garment. She threw it onto the ground in disgust. The unease melted away the second she saw Glinda appraising her. Her tongue briefly darted out, wetting her lips and her eyes blinked a few times. Elphaba had never thought herself beautiful, but all evidence pointed to Glinda finding her handsome indeed and that might have just been enough for the both of them.

“Oh my…” Glinda’s solid resolve faded away and she fell into Elphie’s arms, holding onto her neck as she covered her mouth with kisses, short-lived as she sank to her knees. “Elphie…”

A nibble into the crook of her neck, Glinda’s kisses dropped down her neckline, a flicker of tongue at her nipple that got replaced by her thumb as her mouth kept its path downwards.

“Your hand,” she muttered against Elphaba’s stomach − how long had it been so tensed up? “Your hand, darling.”

Elphaba’s fingers buried into Glinda’s hair, a firm grab onto the messy bun of curls that Glinda always arbored when she was cooking. Glinda hummed in appreciation and for half a second her mouth lifted off Elphaba’s skin as she tucked down the overalls, demanding her compliance to help her get them off, out of the way, and Elphaba could not push up her hips fast enough, could not let a second pass before Glinda’s mouth was at her…

A crashing bullet banged the door open to land in the middle of the kitchen in a flurry of startle and shock. Glinda let out a horrified gasp, falling back onto her butt, and Elphaba near enough fell off her chair if she hadn’t caught herself on the edge of the table beside her. Her breath was heavy with the start, with the missed opportunity, with how upset she was getting by the second.

“What the…” She grumbled and fumbled with her clothes, messily strapping the overalls back over one shoulder. “What the hell was that?!”

Glinda had already scooted nearer to the damn thing, examining it from up close and over her shoulder, Elphaba saw it.

“A bird,” she said dryly. “A bird crashed our lunch.”

“Lunch, huh?” Glinda turned to her with a cheeky smirk. “Is that how it’s called?”

Elphaba felt her cheeks burn up with something that was entirely independent from the heat outside. Frowning, she crouched next to Glinda to look at it. After little examination, she sighed out in relief.

“It’s breathing.” She bit her lip. “Whatever is it doing here?”

Glinda, who was patting the bird gently and trying to get it back onto its little feet after feeling so stunned, perked up in confusion.

“Obviously it flew off course,” she replied.

“Not that,” Elphaba said. Gently, she unfolded the bird’s wing, checked its chest. Red feathers, a single black stripe. “That’s a Quadling Robin. They only live in Northern Quadling Country. What is it doing here…”

The robin, now mostly recovered from the incident, hopped a few feet away, traced by Glinda and Elphaba’s watchful eyes. It took a look around the place, hopped a bit farther, and all at once flew off into the sky. They watched as it found a nearby tree and disappeared into its foliage. For a full minute, neither of them said a thing.

“Well, that was something…” Glinda eventually noted.

She stood up, dusted off her apron, washed her hands at the sink. Elphaba looked at her for a second, the shine of sunlight across her golden hair, before shaking her head and standing as well. Closing the door, she turned around, both her hands still clutching the doorknob behind her. She took a breath. The bird had flown away indeed.

“Erm… Glinda…”

Glinda rinsed off her hands, grabbing a towel from the counter to dry them off. She glanced at Elphaba.

“Huh?” Elphaba squirmed slightly, glancing down. The things she had to do to make herself understood… “Oh! Oh, darling… Do you wanna get back here?”

She only had to gesture to the chair for Elphaba to nod most enthusiastically and in one quick motion, the overalls were off. They stayed off for a long time.

The summer dwindled away and the bird stayed. Elphaba noticed it pecking at her crops and installed a scarecrow − Glinda jokingly embraced the scarecrow a few times, pretending she had not noticed that it wasn’t Elphaba. It made Elphaba laugh and swoop her up in her arms, asking if the scarecrow would do _this_. All the while, the robin mingled with the local birds. Elphaba was still studying those, a repertory of scientific sketches she drew from the swinging chair on their porch and collected into a record. The fauna of their oasis was fascinating and a constant object of her studies, and precisely because of that careful study, she knew for sure that the Quadling Robin was not supposed to be a part of this environment. And yet every night, she heard its tweet echoing through the orchard, blending in with the usual symphony, only she knew it was there.

“You’re overthinking this,” Glinda groaned against her neck as Elphaba broached the issue once more one night as they were settling into bed. “Elphie, leave it be. It’s just a bird.”

Her arms were around Elphie’s shoulders, her face into the crook of her neck, the loose curly hair tickling her skin. Night after night, the smothering heat of summer had given place to the lukewarm embrace of autumn, to the pleasant chill of winter. It was just fresh enough that Glinda took to putting on a cardigan after dinner, not enough that Elphaba couldn't warm her up in an instant as soon as their backs hit the bed. In the day, it was still smoldering.

"But it's not just one anymore! I've seen many!" She gesticulated as she spoke despite all of Glinda's efforts to soothe her, soft kisses on her shoulder, her neck, barely holding back enough so as to not hit Glinda in the face. "There was a greentail warbler on the apricot trees this afternoon! Killyjoy was barking at it. Can you believe that?!"

Glinda sighed, smiling into green skin.

"Hardly," she replied, grabbing one of Elphie's motioning hands for herself, pressing her lips against bony knuckles. "But I'm sure you will have plenty to say about it tomorrow morning."

"They only live in West Pertha Hills! You should know that!"

Elphaba supposed that Glinda's passions had never veered towards the natural world before the homestead, though she remembered many a night at Shiz when they had laid down under the freshly surfaced stars, tracing with a finger the shape of the city's landscape and marveling at the flock of birds that came out at night. How much more beautiful the horizon of the farm land. How stunning the sunset in the desert. If only the birds made any sense…

"Well," Glinda said and the captured hand was pulled down between flush bodies, "I didn't know that." Elphaba's fingers brushed against golden curls. "Elphie…"

Elphaba's thoughts died against Glinda's skin, into her mouth as Glinda leaned up to beg a kiss. A leg wrapped around her waist, pulled her closer and all the mystery that the birds had inspired in her a minute earlier disappeared into the embrace.

"On second thought," she said, marking her words with a kiss against Glinda's eager lips, "I'll worry about the birds tomorrow."

Their twittering woke her up in the morning. She was awake before Glinda, of course, always. The best moments of her day were spent in the early morning when it was quiet, like silence but not really silent. The farm was never silent, the purring of a cat, the rustle of wind in the crops, and the tweeting of birds. In the midst of all this, Glinda's face was a picture of peace and rest. With each breath, a curl of hair was fluttering in front of her face and Elphaba tucked it behind an ear. The natural rosy hue of her cheeks, the subtle smile hidden beneath the blanket, Elphaba could stare at her for hours and often did, only today her mind was at the birds again in an instant of waking up.

"Still there, still there…"

She leaned over the side of the bed to pick up the shirt that had been dropped there the night before, put it on and leaned outside the window, her elbows flat on the sill, hands hanging and caressed by the gentlest breeze. The air was crisp in the morning, the first bite of a green apple, and the sky was a single cloud of orange and gray. There was a flock around the well, the one she had built with her own two hands where there had used to be a source hidden in the rocks. She recognized all of them by now, the species unnamed by any other files than her own study mixed with the mysterious interlopers that she knew just as well but had never expected to ever see again in her life once she had left Oz. There were still more of them now, she saw in the distance with sorrow and confusion. A whole group had added itself during the night, bickering for dry fruit and nuts around the plate Glinda kept full out by the field.

"Why are they here…"

The revelation came so suddenly she banged her head against the window frame in her haste to tell Glinda. She stumbled back into the room, clutching the bump, hopping back onto the bed and shaking Glinda awake.

"MIGRATION!" She shouted, a slurry stir her answer. "Glinda, the birds are migrating here for the winter!"

Her excitement made her jump across the room, her mind buzzing with ideas of what to do with her new knowledge. She wanted her notebooks, her tomes whose knowledge she hadn't anticipated she would so ardently need. How clever she had been to have carried them with her on their move to the farm without knowing what would come.

"Oh, I should have known, I should have predicted… My dear, we have to do _something_!"

Glinda's voice came drowsy and still drenched with slumber.

"Yes, yes," she mumbled, "We must…"

She was fast asleep again with her next breath. Though Elphaba had always relished in watching her sleep and often spent nights awake at her side when her mind would otherwise keep her up, she was not in a mood to lazy up one minute more. She near leapt out of the room and down the stairs to the fields outside. There they were, the ever growing group of flown-in intruders, the lovely feathers and beaks she remembered from a lifetime ago in biology classes at Shiz.

"Welcome!" She told them with an excitement she could hardly hold in. "Welcome!"

But none would reply and even after many attempts, she was resolved to admit that however welcome they were, the guests were after all only a flock of birds − and not one of them a Bird. Still, she attempted to make friends with them, holding her hands for a perch, but a voice at her feet scattered them away. Or rather, on reflection, its owner.

"Look at it," the Cat said, "It's friendly after all."

"You're one to talk," she retorted with mood, but all in pretense. In her little paradise with Glinda out in the desert, it was all too easy to ignore the existence of any other sentient soul but the Cat was a rare reminder that life had not stopped just because they had made their nest here. The birds were another reminder of the same. She smiled at him and scratched him between the ears. Old and taciturn he might be, but a Cat was still a cat of sorts. "Mind I don't find you biting any of them. They are my guests."

"As I am," he said and turned away, his tail swishing petulantly. "You'll make a heaven of this haven for them, I'm sure."

At breakfast, Glinda had had a few hours of sleep and as she served the fruit salad they had made, a sprinkle of honey from the colony of bees Elphaba had insisted on, she was able to better assimilate what Elphaba was saying.

"Are you familiar, my darling, with the saying, 'One swallow does not a summer make'?"

Glinda nodded. Her foot was playing with Elphaba's, not to distract her but to encourage her on.

"Well, that's just it," she explained. "There's a couple of swallows outside, from Western Munchkinland, I think. The saying mentions swallows but I believe this concerns all sorts of birds. I was taught they spent winter out of Oz in the desert or beyond, but nobody ever came back to Oz to tell the tale."

Glinda was chewing on cherries, looking at Elphie in mild confusion.

"You mean our home? They'll be living here?"

"Well, for a time. They'll be slowly leaving us as summer comes back but yes, they'll be our companions all winter. I suspect this has been their winter home their whole lives long before we made it ours."

Everything pointed that way. After breakfast, Elphaba went outside with her and showed her all the birds that had not been part of their little home before, reminded her how they had all arrived little by little as fall gave way to winter.

"Oh dear," Glinda said, "I need to put out more food. They'll starve!"

They wouldn't, of course, Elphaba told herself but made no sign of disagreement as Glinda trotted back to the house to provide the newcomers with more fruit and seeds. They hadn't starved before when there was no one to make the best of the oasis out here in the desert − they sure wouldn't starve now that they did not even have to peck the grains themselves. Still, Glinda was back soon and made a pretty affair of arranging everything neatly for the birds.

"There," she said with relief and leaned against Elphaba, their arms together, "They'll feel at home now."

"At home…" Elphaba repeated and an idea was born in her mind.

Though winter was not near cold out here, it was still a period of respite for the farm, much less crops and more time to focus on the home, more time to rest. It seemed that this project would put an end to that idleness. She had been afraid of growing weary of staying put ; she was now worried there would not be enough time.

"Now, tell me again what the plan is," Glinda asked in the afternoon when Elphaba was busy at it.

It had been a few hours of putting the materials together and draw up a quick layout of their estate to best figure the ideal spot to work on. Elphaba had traced the outline with a stick in the sandy dirty under Glinda's curious gaze. She had now grabbed a longchair and made herself a drink and a few snacks, and sat herself so that she could converse with Elphaba − and not, Elphaba noted, to help her in any way.

"I'm… making…" She grunted with the effort of digging packed dirt that she had never touched before. Rubbing a hand at her forehead already gathering sweat, she paused briefly. "I'm making a pond. Birds like ponds as humans like houses."

"I'm sure of it," Glinda replied. There was a teasing smile at her lips that Elphaba suspected was directed at her. "A pond, Elphie, is usually filled in water."

Elphaba started digging again. It got easier as the ground gave way to her, but not much easier.

"I should hope so."

Glinda sipped some of her lime-grape juice with a silly sound.

"And water is an enemy of yours, I had thought."

Glancing at the shape she had drawn, Elphaba noted with a hint of dispair that she was not nearly close to the end. It was work to do, she told herself, and if it had to be done and she was able to do it, then she had nothing else better to spend her time on. The birds needed a home just as she had needed one − and her home was Glinda. Even a very teasing and unhelping Glinda.

"I'm not talking of a public swimming pool," she said, "or even a lake. It doesn't take a palace to feel at home."

"No, it doesn't," Glinda replied and this time, her smile was all sincere and promptly returned in kind.

It took the better part of a week for the project to come to fruition, less if Glinda had not been a persistent distraction. She had taken to drawing even before their move out of Oz and more than ever on the farm. There were notebooks filled with sketches and Elphaba was permitted to see very little of them. Elphaba dug and Glinda sat there with a notebook and a pen of charcoal and though she smiled to her drawing with immense fondness, Elphaba was not allowed a glimpse of it at all. She didn't mind. Their lives were so intimately entwined that it often felt like they were becoming a single thought, a single thread of life. If Glinda wanted to have passtimes of her own that Elphaba wasn't privy to, then she had every right to it. A constant smile, from time to time a giggle, Glinda was having so much more fun than herself. Maybe that was enough for the both of them. Elphaba didn't mind if they became one. Glinda's joy was always, always her own.

"It's starting to look like a pond," Glinda noted once Elphaba had laid down the greased tarp in the hole she had dug to line its bottom.

"It is, isn't it?" The birds were pecking around, occasionnally glancing her way. "Let's just hope they agree."

Leading the water from the source to the hole was a whole other issue and, though there was a bit of mooning, Glinda's help was requested for that part. She dug the trench leading to the pond and together, they watched the water trickle slowly to the pond. Elphaba wasn't sure how it would fare in summer under such heat as they knew here but then, the new birds would be gone by then. They left the pond be, hoping for it to be filled the next morning.

At night and although Elphaba had done all the work up until the very last part, Glinda demanded a massage. It was very readily agreed. Even a little bit of work deserved its reward. Rewarding Glinda was Elphaba's way of rewarding herself.

"Do you think they'll take to it?" Glinda asked her afterwards.

She had changed after the massage, something shorter now that they were inside, but woolen socks and a shawl around the shoulders for warmth. Elphaba was in the living room building a post for Glinda to put her plates of bird feed on and for the birds to perch, but she feared she would miss a few too many nails and break her fingers with how distracted she was. She paused and took a long good look at Glinda, who caught it and gave her a naughty wink. Tea was served and Glinda cuddled up against her with a hot cup between her hands.

"Well, if they don't, you'll have the best outside tub this side of the desert."

Glinda's laugh was muffled into Elphaba's shoulder and she decided that the perch could wait till the next day. Wrapping an arm around Glinda, she pulled her close and kissed the crown of her head.

"One can only hope," she said. "If they love their new home even a fraction of how I love mine."

A finger under Glinda's chin, she pulled up her face for a kiss on the lips. It was very readily reciprocated and there was no talk or thought of birds for the night.

The pond was finished by the morning and the perch planted next to it and both were tremendously enjoyed by the flock of birds, newcomers or locals. Elphaba took a page out of Glinda's book and brought a second longchair to this tiny shore to gaze at their work together. Glinda served drinks and biscuits and they had an all too merry tea time out in the desert winter.

"It's lovely," Glinda admitted. "Absolutely brilliant idea, my dear."

Elphaba smiled at the compliment and took another biscuit, stretching herself to better lean back into the chair. One of the cats jumped on her stomach and she petted it. It wasn't the Cat. She wondered if she would have to make them wear little bells around the next to warn the birds of their coming. That'd be a thought for later, however.

"I suppose you'll just have to keep to our tub inside the house," she said and refilled Glinda's cup. "I believe this one is theirs."

All across the surface of the water, the birds were happily chirping away and playing with each other, splashing around. It was only right.

Winter lasted only as long as winter must, weeks of fresh evenings and mornings, maybe a few months. The flock started to shrink day after day. Soon the warm afternoons gave way to heat again and Elphaba and Glinda sat at the porch watching the last of the birds fly away. Almost the last.

"They're gone," Glinda told the little robin who had been the first to instigate the mystery of bird migration. "You're on your own with us now."

It tweeted happily, dancing into place on their kitchen counter. Though all the birds had left for the summer, this one who had arrived early seemed to be extending his stay long past politeness. Elphaba held up a hand for him to jump on and looked at it closely. Then, she opened the door again and launched him into the air. It made a funny sound of surprise but opened its wings and went to hide sourly into the lemon tree. Glinda was staring, mouth ajar.

"Why did you do that?!"

Elphaba closed the door behind her, making sure it would not be pushed open by any avian intruder. Secure in that, she turned to Glinda.

"What do you say," she offered, "If I start spending the afternoons with you in here again? It is so very hot outside."

Glinda's surprise turned coy. Taking a few steps towards Glinda, she took her hand and slowly, gently intertwined their fingers.

"That, my dear, is the best idea you could have had."

They stayed inside all afternoon and this time, no bird crashed their way into their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE leave a comment to tell me if you liked this! I haven't written for the farmers AU in so long.


End file.
